Loyal in Friendship
by PoeticDispatch
Summary: Boromir has many friends, but this is a heartfelt story about one in particular. This is a story about friendship and hope. It is kind of sad.


Loyal in Friendship

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership over any of the characters in this story. That right is appointed to the genius J.R.R. Tolkien.

A young woman walked rapidly down cobblestone streets, a whicker basket on her arm filled with various vegetables and fruits, and she avoided many people rushing this way and that in the White City. Though she hummed softly to herself, she stopped for the occasional hello or to look at a particularly eye catching fruit. Suddenly a bong rang out; signaling the start of the new hour, and the woman who had been bending over a particularly large pumpkin stood up rigid and looked at the sky. The sun had started to move above the thick clouds of blackness from Mordor, signaling only an hour before lunch, and the girl sighed in exacerbation.

"Now I 'm in for a flogging for sure." She moaned as she began to run hurriedly through the streets, haphazardly combing through the thick crowds to the gates where a handsome man surrounded by girls stood smiling, only to watch as the blond hair whipped him slightly as the woman passed.

"Aymoyn!" He called out, and she turned, her green dress billowing behind her. She stopped suddenly and the girls around him gazed at her with jealousy.

"Boromir, I need your help!" She cried as she took no notice of the girls huffing at her.

"Whatever it is…" He began to say, but she stopped him.

"I have to get back to my city by noon." Boromir's eyes widened.

"We will never make it walking." He said as he grabbed the whicker basket out of her arms. Aymoyn smiled as she grabbed his arm and pulled him away from his adoring fans.

"That is why we must take your father's horse, hurry!"

The two had jumped on the back of the steward's horse, and galloped out of the gate without a second thought, Boromir steering, and Aymoyn riding behind him holding the basket of food. The wind flew past them, as they traveled at an amazing speed toward the White City's sister city, a much smaller and less grand, yet easier place to live. Aymoyn suddenly laughed out loud as she let her right arm out to catch the wind, a scarf waving like a flag in her hand. Boromir smiled at the silliness on his companion, giddy with the feeling of galloping at such a speed.  
"For as long as I have known you, you have always been late for everything, including my birthday." He laughed well heartedly and he heard her reply come as swift as a knife.

"That is why it is good to have royal friends." Boromir laughed at her snide reply and he saw the gates of Aymoyn's city rising as they galloped closer to it. He felt her hug close onto his back and he felt her warmth sink into him. The wind picked up slightly but he paid no attention as he let his left hand pat the arms that encircled his waist. He stopped the horse at the gate, knowing better than to enter the city if he wanted to get out without the mass of women mobbing him. Aymoyn wasted no time as she jumped off the horse, basket in hand and her face freshly flushed from the quick ride.

"Thank you, Boromir, I again find myself in dept to your graciousness." She said as she bowed her head, and Boromir laughed. He bent down on the horse to put his hand under her chin.

"Please, Aymoyn we are friends, and I am loyal to you. If you need help, I am here." Aymoyn smiled and then another bong rang out from the White City, marking the middle hour, and the pair turned to face the city. Aymoyn's face turned serious again.

"Go, Hurry!" Boromir said as he shooed her off. She giggled slightly as the gated opened and she hurriedly entered the strong fortress of her beloved home city. Boromir watched her even after she had disappeared, and then he heard hoof beats galloping behind him.

"Brother!" He heard the familiar voice of Faramir behind him. Boromir turned his horse to warmly welcome him.

"Hello Faramir!" He cried, and then he immediately noticed the distressed look on Faramir's face. "What is it?" He asked, his voice dark.

"Father wishes to speak with you about matters from the east." He answered as he tilted his head slightly in the direction of the black clouds. Boromir immediately straightened, and the horse started to move, feeling the tension in the brothers' conversation.

"Then we will not keep him waiting. YEHHHIA!" He kicked his horse, spurring him into a fury back to the White City, Faramir in close pursuit.

It was a moonless night as the women set out to bath in a small river that was near their home. Aymoyn was among them, holding the hands of many kids and toddlers from the city. The women talked and laughed quietly as they went, for it was a weekly routine, and it was always fun to bathe and play in the water. As they entered the small forest outside their city, they quieted naturally, as people always do during times of war. But as soon as they reached the river, the women walked fearlessly into the water, and the kids laughed and screamed as they giddily splashed around. Aymoyn was slower to enter the water, for she carried a bow and arrow on her back and she slowly lowered it to the ground as she pulled off her outer dress to reveal a shortened tunic that was tied to just the middle of her thighs. It was a thin cloth obviously meant for bathing, and Aymoyn dived swiftly into the river, allowing her loose hair to be covered and her whole body to be used to the refreshing cold of the river. But as her head rose above the water she came upon a scene of chaos. The women were covering themselves, screaming and jumping, and the kids were running to their parents, looking for someone to protect them.

"There is a man, there is a man!" The women all screamed, and without a second thought Aymoyn swum back to her clothes and as swiftly as an elf picked up her bow and thread an arrow onto the string. The women quieted, obviously surprised.

"Who dares to watch women bathe? That is punishable by the king!" Aymoyn cried out and heard a branch break, and she let her arrow fly. An oaf came from the bushes and Aymoyn knew she had hit her target. A man wearing steward's clothes fell from the shadows and into the light, and the women gasped. Aymoyn stared in horror, her mouth wide open from shock as Boromir stood a dent in his armor just above the heart. He seemed to be out of breath as he stood, but his face was red as a tomato. All of the women fell on their faces, and Aymoyn did the same.

"Sire, I am sorry… I did not see it was you!" She cried out and she watched his brown shoes walk toward her until he was standing over her.

"It is alright; but I was unaware that you knew how to handle such a weapon." He said is quietly, though all the women heard him for in their silence you could hear the drop of a pin.

"To speak honestly, Sire… neither did I." A few choked snickers went through the elder women, and Boromir's laugh boomed through the silence.

"Well, then I think you should come with me, to teach me your amazing new skill. I must say it can't be hard to learn, if you yourself took under to seconds to master it." Another rustle went through the women, this one filled with astonishment. Aymoyn stood and gave Boromir a questioning look. He winked at her and grabbed her arm, leading her into the forest where he had entered.

"You may carry on with your… bathing." He finished with some difficulty and turned into the shadows breaking into a run, Aymoyn in close pursuit.

"Where are we going?" She cried out to him, taking no notice that she was running in a thin and clingy wet tunic.

"Somewhere special." He replied and turned around just long enough for Aymoyn to see his eyes sparkling. So they ran dodging trees and rocks, Aymoyn being used to running barefoot was right behind Boromir the whole time until they came to a clearing where Boromir's horse was tied and a blanked was lain out right next to a small house, an old house that seemed to be falling apart maid out of rotting wood and hay, but Aymoyn smiled.

"My old play house, I had almost forgotten about it." Boromir laughed and sat on the blanket.

"I was all prepared to tell you that you couldn't sit on this blanket for you were dripping wet, but now you are as dry as I." Aymoyn laughed as she sat down and looking at her knee she saw blood dripping down onto her feet. Boromir also saw it and took a sharp intake of breath.

"Now when did that happen? Could it have been when you dived into the river?" And Aymoyn laughed.

"Perhaps it was when I was scrambling for my bow to shoot the peeping tom." She laughed out as Boromir ripped a piece of his shirt sleeve and grabbed Aymoyn's leg and laid it across his own while he dabbed the blood so he could see the wound.

"Well your aim was right, I'll give you that." He answered. Aymoyn's face turned grave and she looked at the sky.

"Well, what news do you bring?" She asked and Boromir hesitated slightly as he began wrapping her leg.

"What do you mean?" He answered only half-heartedly, he continued to dress the wound never glancing up to look into Aymoyn's eyes, but she stared at him intently.

"You know what I mean. Coming to get me when it is obviously Bathing Day, bringing me to the place that we first met, and then finding ways to prolong what you obviously came to tell me in the first place, and," she pronounced in a conclusive tone, putting her hand on Boromir's cheek and turning his head toward her, "you avoid looking into my eyes." Boromir turned away and stood, his strong form facing away from Aymoyn.

"You were always observant, my friend." He said, and Aymoyn could tell his voice was riddled with false happiness. Suddenly scared at what Boromir was going to tell her she stood.

"What is it?" She cried out and Boromir put his hand up to silence her, and he turned. He stood stronger, higher than he had before and his face was filled with pride.

"I am to journey to Rivendale," He began, and Aymoyn felt her heart rise. As if reading her mind he put his hand up, signaling that that was not all he had to say, and Aymoyn waited for him to say the rest.

"My father's informant has told him that…" Boromir hesitated and then took a step toward Aymoyn and bent down to her ear, "the Ring has been found." For a moment she just stared blankly into Boromir's excited eyes, but then like a bell it hit her.

"The ONE Ring!" She asked not believing her ears. Boromir nodded and Aymoyn stumbled slightly.

"But why would you travel to Rivendale?" She asked loudly and then a ruble slightly shook the ground. The pair turned to where a fireball could be seen in the east, erupting into the sky and then disappearing.

"To see if I can catch a glimpse of the Ring, to see it if it is true, then I am supposed to talk to them about bringing it here so that we may stop the war." Aymoyn looked away from Boromir, feeling as though her heart was going to burst. She couldn't explain the feeling in her heart, but she felt the tears in her eyes. Boromir lost all his composure and pulled off his armor with two quick clicks of his buttoned straps. Pulling her into him he hugged her and rocked her slowly, resting his cheek on her head.

"Why do you cry? I am proud to do this task." He said, though he also felt his heart was going to explode with his insides. He was able to hide his tears, but the aching in his heart was undeniable.

"I fear for you, for I know that," she stopped and pulled away from Boromir to look him in the eye, "that something is going to happen, something behind anyone's sight. Times are going to change." Another rumble from the east shook the ground a little harder this time, but the pair never broke eye contact.

"When will you be leaving?" She asked, her voice growing stronger. Boromir still had his hands on Aymoyn's shoulders.

"Noon, tomorrow." He answered and Aymoyn took a sharp intake of breath.

"So soon?" She asked, but she knew the answer even before it was said.

"The sooner I leave, the sooner we win the war." he replied. Aymoyn thought for a moment, and then smiled.

"When you leave, just as you hit the top of the southwest rise, look to the highest part of the White City, I'll be there." Boromir gave her a reproachful look, and dropped his hands to his sides.

"Are you sure you can make it? You have always been late to everything, including my birthday." Aymoyn smiled and grabbed his hands holding them up in front of her.

"Please Boromir, I am your friend, and I am loyal to you." Boromir smiled back, touched at what his friend had told him, and Aymoyn started to laugh.

"Stop reminding me!" She cried playfully as she pushed him away. Her face lost her smile as she looked around her. "You should be getting back. You have a long journey ahead of you, and you need your rest." Boromir grabbed his armor and jumped on his horse.

"At dawn then?" He cried, his horse rearing up.

"At dawn." Aymoyn replied, laughing as he galloped away. But even still she felt her heart cry out, as sadness engulfed her. Sitting on the blanket she cried silently wishing there was another way.

Boromir rode gallantly on his horse down the descending streets of Gonder. Many had come to see him off, and he had flowers handed to him and thrown on his path, but he looked around enthusiastically searching for a cloud of billowing robes or a wisp of long blond hair, but he saw neither and as he reached the gates of his city, he felt his heart fall involuntarily. As he spurred his horse into a gallop out of the city, he forced himself not to look over to where he knew Aymoyn lived.

Aymoyn ran at top speed up to the highest part of the city, taking short cuts and knocking over a few people, and after yelling out a few apologies she continued her chase to beat the clock. Reaching the bell tower landing, the highest point of the city, she stopped only a second to gather up her robes and rush to the edge of the landing which had no wall to keep people from falling so it was empty of all town people, who were down near the gates. For a moment panic took her for she thought that she had missed him, that he had turned to see she was not there, but then she saw his black horse racing towards the rise. She smiled as the horse looked as though it wouldn't stop, but Boromir turned him and Aymoyn and his eyes met as the horse reared.

"I am your friend and I am loyal to you." She said as a wind blew from the north and she opened her hand to let apple blossom petals fly out in a group as her goodbye.

Boromir felt his heart ache to go back, to let Faramir have this journey he o longed for, but even as he looked at Aymoyn he knew that was impossible. He was about to turn away when he saw Apple blossom petals coming in a group towards him, and he held out his hand catching two and he looked down at them. They were a light pink color; they seemed to glow in his palm. He looked back up to Aymoyn and knew that had come from her, and he placed them in his pocket. Waving a last farewell he rode off into the day, leaving his home and friends behind.

Even as Boromir rode away to save Gonder, a huge army of Uruks traveled across the land to raise an attack against Gonder, starting with Ogsiliath. They had traveled all night and as they came across a clearing with a rotting house they trampled it without a second thought.


End file.
